The very active child, and music

Witch baby continues on the activity streak; getting his/her muscles all toned. Or maybe just uncomfortable.

I looked at pictures of 3D ultrasounds online, with the idea that I might just one day go nuts and go have one despite the exorbitant cost and silliness of not just waiting. But all the babies in them seemed so horribly squashed, and swallowing amniotic fluid, which I realize is what babies do but seems kind of icky to think about and to see. We say the womb is soft and warm and gentle, but does anyone remember it?

Uncomfortable would describe me, these days, and there's still weeks to go. Last night I got so fed up with being kicked (particularly in painful places) that I finally just went to bed at 9, because when I'm asleep I don't feel it as much. I also am starting to get that strange baby-falling-out sensation that I had with Emily at the very end; I think that's when the baby gets lower down in the pelvis. I haven't had a lot of breathing problems yet, so that's a goodness; the bigger belly may actually help with that.

On Tuesday we'll get to see what the baby's position is and all those things, so perhaps much will be revealed. It's definitely different than the last pregnancy. I do remember being exhausted at the end of the day, and uncomfortable, but it didn't seem quite so hard. Maybe hope is a kind of a soothing balm and ours is occasionally in short supply.

I talked to Carl this morning about iTunes and how I want to burn the baby CDs and then I remember why I can't listen to the Lion King soundtrack any more (the Broadway one) or Into the West from Return of the King and I just started bawling. I miss Emily so intensely still in those moments where I remember things we shared and it cuts through at odd moments.

I still can't believe that she ended up deaf after the way she used to respond to sound, and how fragile that all was. And it scares me a lot that this baby is equally vulnerable. And I feel this vaguely selfish, vaguely self-protective streak in me to not give up any more music to loss; I don't have a soundtrack for this baby because I don't want to have any series of songs that break my heart.

And then I go off the other end thinking I should get out the mix CD from Emily's funeral and listen to it over and over until I'm immune to this need for self protection, or perhaps dead, because I don't know which would happen first (not in the suicidal sense; in the time sense).

And then I feel like a bad mom 'cause I can't just make my kid a damn mix tape! I mean who would care if I couldn't listen to some more songs, if this baby died too.

But it seems I do. I realize there is plenty of time for CDs in the future, if all goes well. But I guess since Emily's life was so short, and mostly was in the womb, it seems like that's the more likely spot.

I said to Carl that this baby has had fewer experiences than Emily did and it's true. With her we were at the cottage and we went to a lot of classical concerts and this time it's been trains and cars and moving, but very few activities like those. Although we did go to the Briars at around the same stage that we were at the cottage with Em, so that's something. And I hope to take this kid to the Pride parade, despite the whole house thing: I want to paint my belly with the Pride rainbow and go get pictures and dance on the sidewalk.

It didn't seem to bother Carl, the lack of events, but it bothers me. I can't imagine how much the reverse is going to bother me: this child getting to cry, nurse, be wrapped up. I hope. I really hope.

I think it's that kind of day, a grief day. At least at this moment it is.

Our nest is coming together: everything is falling into place for the closing a week today. That's a big something. But it's rather boring, in utero.